


Once Upon A Smoothie

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Courting with Smoothies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, M/M, Marvel Fluff Bingo 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Tony doesn't make it to an early morning obligation, Tony and Steve are unconsciously courting each other with smoothies, and Bruce plays match maker.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60
Collections: Marvel Fluff Bingo





	Once Upon A Smoothie

Today of all days Tony in all of his coffee loving, need for speed, go go going glory just couldn’t.

The man of which it would regularly take the whole of the Avengers team and then the aid of a frustrated Pepper threating another eternity and a half of paperwork to get him out of his lab after a binge just didn’t have that spark today. The little voice that was going constantly in the back of his head (regularly taking over his whole mind) making plans for future projects while simultaneously continuing the plans for his current project was nowhere to be found, silenced, out of office, had done away with itself with no plans of coming back today, he assumed.

He had no motivation to leave the comforting arms of his bed. He had little motivation for anything at all, frankly. Not his lab, not gym, no want even – shockingly – for his cup of the morning’s coffee.

He felt even less inclined to approach the Avengers knowing very well that he would have a breakfast he very much did not want to eat forced upon. Lest Natasha bring out her knife collection again despite Steve and Bruce's joined forces to banish all weapons from the dinner table. This was Natasha after all.

_Steve._

Steve was maybe the closest thing Tony had found appealing this morning but he guessed he'd missed their morning routine based on the sun beginning to under. The curtains

Tony sighed and rolled over to glare at the clock on the nightstand. _8:15 am,_ which confirmed his suspicions.

He had missed he and Steve’s morning routine.

Sleeping was not something that came naturally to Tony, surprising him. Sleep really wasn’t something that really came naturally to any of the Avenger’s but Tony in particular. 

If that’s what time it truly was he had really slept in. Even on post-mission days he wasn’t sure he’d slept in that late in months, maybe years.

Steve was probably worried.

Tony sighed flopping back down on the bed.

He was probably pacing the kitchen, like Steve’s tend to do when in distress. That or he was powering cleaning the communal floor- vacuuming, dusting, washing dishes by hand even though Tony continued to push that _they do have a dishwasher, Steve. And a maid. Her name was Amy._

He probably thought that all of Tony’s stress had finally caught up to him and he’d croaked. That or the mountain of paperwork Pepper pushed upon him had finally avalanched and he was caught beneath the rubble.

Instead here he was. Lazy and unmotivated in his memory foam fortress. (That’s not what his therapist would call it but it was the easiest thing to grasp at that moment in time.)

Since it had begun weeks ago there were very few instances that either Steve or Tony had missed their morning routine.

It started as an accident that gradually became habit that Tony looked forward to every morning.

Steve was usually up no later than 5:30 am for his early morning run and that day had been no different.

Tony had just come out a 16 hour stint in his lab, surfacing for another mug of liquid gold when Steve stumbled in. Instead of his usual Captain America glow of riotousness and beaming smile he was pale - paler than pale - and a visible clammy sheen coated his face.

At first Tony was terrified for the Captain jumping straight into the worst possible scenario.

Had he been attacked on his run? Was he injured?

Fumbling the coffee pot and his mug, Tony had jumped to the rescue of their great and fearless leader, pushing him down into the closest chair.

"Where you hurt, Cap?” Tony asked visually examining him looking for signs of an exterior injury. “JARVIS, scan for injuries and vitals and while you’re at it get me CCTV footage from the Captain’s run. Also let Bruce know-“

“Tony-” Tony cut him off.

“It’s okay, Cap.” Tony said. “Bruce will be on his way and-“

“No, Tony, stop.” Steve breathed, racking a shaky hand through his sweat drench hair. “I’m not hurt. It’s okay." he nearly missed his embarrassed, “I did this.”

Tony froze and skeptically eyed Steve. “What do you mean the Great Captain America did this?”

Steve sighed, defeated. “I’m not the Great Captain America, Tony. You know that. And just what I said, I did this. “ His eyes never left his lap, ears beginning to redden.

Huh.

“I made a mistake and forgot to eat before I left on my run. I only realized once I had gotten through most of my morning routine.” Steve continued. "It’s entirely my fault.”

If this were anyone else (especially Clint), Tony would have taken the time to make a moment out of this. He was the one typically in this state, sure, but was always mothered over it. Strong-armed into promising he would try to not be like this again. But in this moment Tony could see how self-conscious Steve felt about the whole thing and let it go.

Instead of saying anything Tony jumped into action.

Tony was definitely not allowed to work the stove, or oven, and most recently the electric kettle. So, a hearty breakfast was out of the question. Instead what he could do was make a mean breakfast smoothie.

So, he crammed what he could find between the fruit basket on the counter, and the drawers of the fridge into his trusty blender and handed off the concoction to Steve who downed it in mere moments.

Tony expected disgust from Steve.

He definitely wasn’t a chef and the ingredients were really not ones he would typically pair together but in a pinch it was decent enough for Tony so he prayed it would be so for a hypoglycemic Captain. What he got instead was a smile. Not the Captain America smile but a genuine Steve smile and Tony’s little heart swooned.

“Thank you, Tony.”

Before Tony could stumble over his tongue Bruce, bless him, burst into the kitchen, feet bare and pajamas disheveled. “What did Tony do this time?” he sighed.

From then on it had become their morning routine. Not the nearly fainting Steve or distressed Bruce, thankfully, but all of the other stuff. Run. Coffee. Smoothie.

He tried new recipes, mixing it up from day to day discovering what his smoothie buddy decided he did or did not like and adjusted the menu accordingly.

And somewhere along the way Steve had begun to steal his heart.

He didn’t notice at the start but by the time he did he knew he was a goner. He tried to keep his feelings to himself in fear of the inevitable heartbreak. Who would like an old coot like himself? He was jaded and constantly skeptical of life and those around him. He carried a stigma that would tarnish America’s sweetheart’s reputation without a doubt.

He knew would have to tear the proverbial band aid off at some point but he didn’t need today to be that day.

Time seemed to melt around him the longer he lay staring at the ceiling.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or what time it was when JARVIS finally spoke. “Sir, it seems you have visitors. Captain Rogers and Dr. Banner wanted allow you a few minutes to be decent, as Mr. Barton so graciously phrased.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Of course he did. What have I told you about calling him that, JARVIS? That feathers for brains isn’t civilized enough to be called Mr. Barton.” He grumbled.

A wave of guilt washed over him.

He made Bruce worry. He made _Steve_ worry. Maybe even the rest of his team.

And despite it all he wasn’t sure he would be able to get out of bed. He just couldn't which rang true when there was gentle knock on his door and it heard it slowly swung open. All he could do was roll over and press his face into his pillows.

He didn't want to see the look on either of their faces.

"Good morning, Tony." Bruce called softly. There was a hesitant tone in his voice as they crossed the room towards his bed. "How are you this morning?"

Tony mumbled unintelligibly into his pillows.

What could he say? He was unmotivated and too lazy to get out of bed today? That the thought of getting out of bed and facing the rest of the Avengers was too overwhelming and made his heart race? That he didn't want breakfast, or coffee because that the weight of the world was just too much for him today?

His guilt was rising and overcoming everything else. He wasn't worthy of the emotion and yet there it was. There they were.

"You know I can't understand you when you mumble into your pillows, Tony." Bruce chided gently. "Steve and I are going to come closer, is that okay, Tony?" Bruce talked to him like his was a fearful wild animal he was trying to coax down from their perch.

Tony sighed and the duo seemed to take that as their go ahead to commence OPERATION: Care for Tony.

The weight of Bruce and Steve caused a dip in the bed on either side of him, successfully trapping him. Regularly the thought of being trapped would cause him to panic but today it only aided in his want to stay in bed and hide.

One of the two- Bruce, Tony identified by soft yet sure grip -took his hand pressing two fingers into the inside of his wrist. "You've been in bed a while. How are you feeling?"

Tony just gave a shrug inciting a sigh from Bruce. "You know you can't push us away Tony? Any of us. We're a team and here for you."

Was that what he was doing? Tony did respond this time unsure of what to say. He wasn’t an ooey-gooey feelings sort of guy. He didn’t openly share his struggles. They were his problem and no one else bare that burden.

Bruce continued to mother him checking for a fever and going as far to threaten blood work, claiming he wasn't _that kind of doctor_ despite it all.

All the while Steve sat uncharacteristically silent at his side.

When Bruce was finally satisfied Tony wasn't dying, he patted Tony's hand and stood. "Good luck, Captain. He's all yours." Bruce said. "Let me know if things change, or if either of you need anything. Please, be nice Tony."

Steve didn’t need any luck, Tony grumbled.

He was the one who was really going to need the luck. Steve was the queen of lectures and was no doubt going to lecture Tony about not caring for himself. He had done it before and would do it again.

Yet once Bruce left the room, Steve let out a sigh of his own. Instead of the self-righteous attitude the Captain seemed to exude when attempting to talk Tony into taking care of himself, he seemed to deflate like a balloon that had sprung a leak. In its place was a different man entirely. In its place was Steve.

Feeling a change Tony dared peer out from his pillows.

“You know, Tony, if you don’t want to hang out anymore that’s okay.” Steve ran a hand back through his hair, hair that looked tussled from previous distress. His expression was tight but said all he needed to know. “I’d understand. I thought maybe… You know, never mind. It’s really okay. You don’t need to spare me. I just want you to take care of yourself.”

Tony’s eyes widened in realization. Steve looked… vulnerable.

He looked hurt.

For one reason or another it caused a change in Tony. For the first time that morning he rolled over and managed to sit up.

He couldn’t describe the feelings pooling inside of himself. They were complex, burning inside of him. While the anxiety was still there pulling at his attention but these new emotions were new and motivating.

“Steve-“

“No, Tony. I want you to know I understand. I was reading into things more than I should’ve.” Steve smiled gently, momentarily meeting Tony’s gaze before looking away. In the split second they shared a glance Tony knew just how he felt. He looked crushed. Just as crushed a Tony was afraid he would feel if Steve no longer wanted to see Tony. “I thought there was more between us than there was and I want to say I’m sorry.”

What was he saying? Was he really saying what Tony thought he was saying?

Tony opened his mouth and just as quickly closed it again. If this is what he thought, it was Tony’s chance to spare his heart further down the line. He could extinguish the spark now before it grew out of control, consuming him whole.

Yet his hand had a mind of its out and silently felt out Steve’s.

None of what Steve was saying was what he wanted.

He wanted their morning smoothie break; the way Steve's nose crinkled when he had a fruit or flavor of something not available before the war. He wanted to hear his laugh and see the way his ears flushed when he was overly excited. He wanted feel the strong yet gentle grasp of Steve's hand in his own whenever he wanted.

His own heart be damned; he wanted to be selfish- he wanted Steve.

Steve froze before gently squeezing Tony's hand in return.

Tony flushed. He didn't talk about emotions but maybe… maybe this once he could. For Steve. "I didn't mean to miss this morning," Tony mumbled. "I overslept and don't tell Brucie Bear, I'm just not…feeling like myself today."

Steve smiled faintly and began to pull his hand away from Tony's. "It's okay, To-"

"It's actually not, Steve, because I _don't not_ feel maybe what you feel." Tony rushed, gripping onto his hand tighter than before. "Plus you're the only one who likes my smoothies."

It was Steve's turn to flush, "Are you sure?" He asked tentatively.

Tony managed a quick nod which seemed to give permission to then be pounced upon by a wild Steve. A Steve who pulled him in for a hug with no inclination to let him go. At first Tony was stiff but realizing this wasn’t a sick joke and that Steve was in fact _hugging_ him and didn’t seem to be going anywhere Tony gave in. For a moment, just a moment, he let himself give in and be enveloped in Steve’s grasp.

It was a beginning.

-

“You like my smoothies don’t you?” Tony chimed some time later, lying in bed once more this time with Steve, _Jurassic Park_ playing in the background. Somehow it was classic that had escaped their team movie nights and Steve had no experienced.

Steve blushed, turning back to the Chinese food menu. “What do you think of the Mongolian Beef?”

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Steve does not like Tony's smoothies.
> 
> It's really been a minute since I've written out anything let alone a whole fic so I'm super happy it was these something featuring these goofballs. Even if it's cringe worthy thank you so much for sticking it out!
> 
> This has not been beta'd so please ignore any grammatical errors. I'll get around to fixing them at some point soon (maybe).
> 
> This is for my mutual pining square.


End file.
